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The Wind Beneath My Wings

.It’s turned into yet another one of those nights.

I need to consume alcohol in vast quantities and this dive of a bar is as good a place as any. I’m furious. We’ve only been here for a short time and already Izzy is shining majestically, masterfully controlling the whole place, flirting and manipulating people into buying her drinks.

The music is deafening and I’m angrily forcing myself into a silent drunken stupor. Through my bleary haze, I see Sam, looking as gorgeously mean and moody as ever. Half hidden in the shadow of an alcove on the far side of the room, he is too preoccupied with Izzy, who is swanning around looking radiant, to notice me. He has never once acknowledged me, and believe me, I’ve tried. He has always been in love with Izzy. Of course he loves Izzy. Everyone loves Izzy. Izzy the exquisite. Izzy the wonderful. The spotlight is always on Izzy, and I’m getting extremely tired of being in her shadow.

Bloody ‘wind beneath my wings’! That sentence has always felt like a backhanded compliment; all just hot air! Am I ‘content to let her shine because that was my way’? NO I’M BLOODY NOT! But while ever Izzy casts out her light, there is always the shadow that follows behind.

Something is developing between Izzy and the attractive guy in a leather jacket she has homed in on. He whispers in her ear and Izzy laughs loudly, grabbing the attention and admiration of everyone nearby. A grimace of jealousy sweeps across Sam’s face.

I need more bloody alcohol!

Carelessly, a drink is plonked on the table in front of me. Sam joins me, forcing me to slide further along the bench. There is no smile, no acknowledgement, just silence as he stares at Izzy. She is still talking to leather-jacket guy, but suddenly, she turns and looks back at me across the room. Our eyes meet. Her expression is thunderous. Abruptly, Sam kisses me as if his life depends on it! I’m not stupid. I realise he is trying to make Izzy jealous, I also know he is not likely to succeed. If I’d been sober, I’d have slapped him and told him to get lost, but foolishly, a tactical kiss from Sam feels like a better option than no kiss at all.

Izzy storms across the darkened room and speaks firmly to me. She tells me angrily it’s time to go home. I’m drunkenly insisting that - nope! - I need to stay and kiss Sam again! Izzy is enraged, she grabs my arm, pushes Sam out of the way, drags me from my seat and before I’ve have chance to argue, we are out in the bitter cold air of the night. It looks as though her hissing and scolding that I’ve had far too much to drink, is going to last all the way home.

I’ve collapsed in a heap on the living room floor, trying hard to undress, unable to do much for myself. Izzy roughly, helps me upstairs. She undresses me, puts me to bed, and aggressively tucks the covers tightly around my body. All the while she tells me I’m a bloody fool for kissing Sam and as much as she hates me at the moment, she still doesn’t want to see me hurt; insists that he is just not bloody worth it.

I can hear my own voice; a drunken slur with a childish whine, moaning that I hate her for always having the attention of every single person in the universe.

She looks at me with a stunned expression and asks me if I realise why she is so angry with me right now. I’m mumbling that Sam’s jealousy plan must have worked, but she spits an assurance at me that the one person she is NOT jealous of is Creepy Sam.

Izzy tells me that she really, really, liked the leather-jacket guy, “but...” she says slowly and clearly as though I’m a young child “…yet again, it didn’t take him long to start asking to be introduced to you!”

I’m staring at her in surprise at this revelation.

“It really pisses me off!” she rants at me. “Every single time I like someone, they always ask about you! Why is it always you? Why don’t they ever like me? Why do they always prefer you more? Why do I constantly have to live in your shadow?”

Suddenly, Izzy is like an uncoiling spring, spewing forth tales of hatred and jealousy towards me, going right back to our childhood.

She pauses for a second. In the silence she takes a purposeful deep breath, “Anyway, now that I’ve got that off my chest, baby sis, we should try and get some sleep, it’s late. Annoyingly, I suppose, we are who we are, and the show must go on!”

Much calmer now, Izzy’s sweet and friendly smile sets solid once again. I’ve known that smile for years. I’d recognise it anywhere. It’s the one she puts on for the world. The one that everyone loves. The one that makes Izzy shine.

A fictional storyBased on the 'friendship' between two real people I knew during my time at art collegeAll names have been changed

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Wind Beneath My Wings(written by Jeff Silbar & Larry Henley)

It must have been cold there in my shadow, To never have sunlight on your face.You were content to let me shine, that's your way. You always walked a step behind.So I was the one with all the glory, While you were the one with all the strength.A beautiful face without a name for so long. A beautiful smile to hide the pain.Did you ever know that you're my hero, And everything I would like to be?I can fly higher than an eagle, For you are the wind beneath my wings.It might have appeared to go unnoticed, But I've got it all here in my heart.I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it. I would be nothing without you.Did you ever know that you're my hero? You're everything I wish I could be.I could fly higher than an eagle, For you are the wind beneath my wings.Did I ever tell you you're my hero? You're everything, everything I wish I could be.Oh, and I, I could fly higher than an eagle, For you are the wind beneath my wings,'cause you are the wind beneath my wings. Oh, the wind beneath my wings.You, you, you, you are the wind beneath my wings. Fly, fly, fly away. You let me fly so high.Oh, you, you, you, the wind beneath my wings. Oh, you, you, you, the wind beneath my wings.Fly, fly, fly high against the sky, So high I almost touch the sky.Thank you, thank you, Thank God for you, the wind beneath my wings..